BUSH'D
by SpottedRabbit
Summary: Ah! What a lovely day in San Antonio! The people are laughing, the children are playing, and Alfred has his delicious burger! Oh, no! Nothing could ruin this day! ... Hey, hold your horses ... Is that George Bush dressed as a cowboy? CrackFic


**BUSH'D.**

* * *

NOTICE -- I do NOT mean to offend ANYONE with this fanfic! It is simply for humor! I do not mean to insult George Bush or any Americans... or Texans. For your information, the authoress is Texan herself. If you read this, you're basically signing a contract -- that you are aware that this is all a joke, and not meant to persuade anyone into hating Bush or whatever!

Disclaimer -- I don't own Hetalia, and George Bush is his own person.

Contains – George Bush and... Coyotes! Grrr! Grrrrr!! -bites hand-

* * *

It was a nice day in San Antonio, even if it was incredibly hot, and there were no clouds at all in the sky. People were all over the place -- some chit-chatting and having a blast, others rushing past the crowds, and some were making out on the benches as if no one could see them (how wrong they were). Different smells engulfed the city, Mexican food and American (or whatever country french fries came from -- it wasn't France). Nothing could ruin this day! Alfred was damn sure of that, and even if some bastard like England dared try ruining his peaceful day in Texas, he'd simply ignore him. No one was to bother him! Only his people, and that's it.

He forgot that some of his people were complete jackasses. (He blamed this on England, though, going on and on about how originally this country was raised in England, such as that.)

"Yeeehaw!" A cry echoed through the road, causing everyone, including Alfred to turn around to see who was causing such a racket. Alfred noted that people were gasping, laughing, and giving disgusted looks -- and he was curious to find out what exactly was going on. Munching on a burger, he pushed his way through a gathering crowd.

"Excuse me, ma'am... Sorry, sir! A-ah! What's going on?" Alfred talked to various of strangers, only a few recognizing him under his sunglasses, and "casual Texan outfit," which consisted of a flowery, Hawaiian looking T-shirt, white shorts and sandals.

"Hey now, you're-- Woo-wee, just about every famous person's comin' down here, huh?" A half-wasted middle-aged man snickered, patting Alfred on the back. "Glad to see yer still carin' for the big ol' lone star state, Jones."

"Haha, why would I not care for my country?" Alfred quickly escaped the wasted American, trying to not think of what England said -- that a lot of his people were wasted garbage. Screw that old man!

America struggled through a few more people before getting a front-row seat to the sight. Alfred felt himself gasp, seeing his ex-President of the USA riding on top of a stick horse, in a cowboy costume, twirling a rope as if he was in some sort of rodeo. Alfred walked to the man, blinking and curious. He had no idea what to think of this.

"Sir... George... George Bush? Are you... drunk?" The USA asked, a bit scared of the answer. Slowly, he felt a certain Englishman crawling up his back, whispering negative things about his people. He shrugged off the thought.

'I just came at a weird time, that's all. Now go away, Arthur!'

"Lookie here! I got me a bitch tonight!" George Bush yelled, throwing his rope on Alfred, then pulling it into a tight grip.

"Wha-- Untie me! What is the mea--" America nearly shrieked when the former president ran off, dragging him along. "Where are we going?! If you wanted to talk just say so!"

Alfred's day was officially ruined from then on out.

* * *

"I don't know, Francis. Shouldn't we stop them now?... before it gets too..."

"Oh, mon chere! Are you, perhaps, jealous?"

"No! You damn git! Just, ugh. Let's get this over with!"

* * *

Alfred found himself tied up in a horse stable at some ranch he had not a clue where. The crazed president had even put a muzzle on him! And after many attempts of trying to sadle him up, and then try to ride the American, George Bush finally decided to take a break.

Cursing to himself, Alfred struggled with the ropes, and the damn muzzle! It smelled like horse! And he was not a horse, last time he checked.

After many failed attempts, he growled, before giving up. What ever. What was to come he would deal with -- it's not like he was about to be killed! If this was Russia, it'd be a whole different story. But this was just a crazy ex-president. No harm could possibly be done unless mentally.

The stable room gates opened, and Alfred's eyes immediately darted to the area to see who it was. He knew who it was, but he would check anyway, hoping that maybe it was a savior.

George Bush, still dressed as a cowboy, came stomping in. Nothing was different, to America's relief. ...Wait, what was that in his hand?

When America realized what it was -- a whip! a bloody whip! -- he began panicking. Dear god, of all the days to visit San Antonio, why did Alfred have to chose today?

"Yer a bad horsie. Das okay, dough. I got yer solushun, right here." George Bush raised the whip, then clashed it down, startling the younger American. Thank god he was aiming at the ground...

"Mmmm!!" Alfred tried speaking through the muzzle, but it was pointless. Not only would it only come out as mumbles, but this man was already crazed into his mind, he wouldn't listen.

"Now be a good lil horsie!" The once-high-in-reputation man tied a leash on Alfred, tugging him outside. "Or I'll whip ya, whip ya good!"

* * *

"Francis! This is going too far!"

"It's all right, my little Arthur! If things get out of control--"

"Things already are getting out of control, you bloody wanker!"

* * *

George Bush was seated happily on Alfred's back, grinning and laughing like a little kid who just got a new bicycle. America was scowling at the ground, huffing, the weight of the man coming down on him. True, Alfred was strong, very strong. But when you're forced to run around-- no, crawl around, carrying an old man on your back -- you're going to get tired, physically and mentally.

"Good ol' horsie. Easy, easy, girl!"

Alfred wanted to get up and kick that man for calling him a girl now. He took a shower this morning, and he was fairly sure he still had a--

"Alfred, mon chere!~ We're here to rescue you!"

"Damnit, Francis! Considering you let it go this far, I doubt he wants to see YOU--"

"Mmmm, mmm!" Alfred was very delighted, hearing the two voices he would usually dread, but right now, he could kiss both of them -- but he wouldn't, of course. (Francis would take that as permission to have sex.)

"Shh!! I'll take care of 'em! YA DAMN COYOTES WON'T BE GEDDIN' ANYDING!!"

"C-Coyotes?!" Arthur questioned, a bit irritated at how he was being treated.

"Oho, your eyebrows are BUSHY enough to be _two_--"

"Shut up, you arsehole!"

France and England haults infront of the two, Francis smirking, Arthur scowling. Alfred would be embarrassed about this later on, he was sure about it.

"Give us--"

"BACK! BACK!!" George Bush clashed his whip in the air, then at England, threatening to hit him. "GET AWAY, YA DAMN COYOTES!"

"Grr, grr~!" Francis growled, teasingly. Arthur glared at him, but then thought -- it was probably a good idea, wasn't it? "Psst, mon chere! It'd be best if you acted more like a puppy-dog!"

"..Woof." England could not believe he was going to be doing this. "Woof, woof. Ruff, ruff. Grr."

"Oh, so boring! Like this!" Francis skipped to the right side of George Bush and Alfred. Then Frenchman got on all fours, and gave a snarl. "Grrr!!"

Arthur wasn't sure what he was seeing. He knew France was... France, but all his life he had never thought he'd see the damn frog acting like a dog! And now... He was expected to act like one too?

George Bush pulled at Alfred's shoulders, signalling to rear up. Alfred did not do such a thing, and just remained there. He was amused by how Francis was acting -- and how England was determined to just stand there. At the same time, he was planning -- maybe when the old man was distracted, he could push him off? Yeah, he'd try that.

"Grrrrr!!" Francis continued growling.

"BACK AWAY!" George Bush slashed at England, who wasn't the one growling but got blamed anyway. "GET, GET! YA BASTARDS!"

France eyed England, expecting him to give in at least now. And that'd just what the Brit did. Arthur got on his knees and began barking, cursing himself inwardly.

"Grrr!! GRRR!!"

Alfred could not keep himself from laughing. He probably looked ridiculous, but they looked even more ridiculous, he was sure! Before he could continue chuckling, he felt a sharp pain on his wrist. Looking down he found...

What the _Obama_!?

Francis had found his way to Alfred, and was biting his wrist. America knew this was some kinky joke, but at the same time a way to help, but... For god's sake, biting? France was getting into this "coyote" thing a bit too much!

Arthur just stayed where he was, shocked too. But this gave him a chance! He snuck to the opposite side and got back on his legs. He then grabbed the old, retired president and pulled him off of Alfred.

"AHH! DEY GOT ME, HELP! HELP!!"

* * *

+++ Next day...! +++

"Let's just forget about yesterday, okay?!" Arthur yelled, getting tired of the teasing. God, he HATED being with these two, but at the same time, he found himself with these two all the goddamn time.

"But I can't believe you got on all fours! I mean, Francis did it too but -- ARTHUR KIRKLAND, the tough-pirate guy, getting down--"

"SHUT IT."

"Fine, but you'll laugh sooner or later, old man! ... Ow, damnit, France! STOP the biting!"

"Mon chere, it's just so fun.~ Grrr!" France was on all-fours, biting on Alfred's hand.

Arthur placed a hand on his head, rubbing his temples. "Idiots..."

* * *

+++ That very same day... +++

"Liet! Like, something seriously horrible happened! I can't find some of my ponies!" Poland cried through the phone.

"...That's so weird... In America, there was a sighting of George Bush with four little horses--"

"Oh my gosh, like, LIET! That's THEM! I'm missing FOUR of them! You'd like, help me get them back, right?"

"...." Lithuania kept silent, then hung up the phone.

Besides, Feliks would be there any minute.

~FIN!~

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A/N -- I was not on crack while writing this. I was simply... inspired by the Hetalia Kink meme on LJ! Y'know, they have Sarah Palin x Russia! That's... Well, anyway.


End file.
